Champion: A Legend Novel (17 page)

“It’s for the best,” I finally whisper through the lump in my throat. Images flash through my head of Metias, and of what Thomas had told me about his last night alive. I force my thoughts back to Tess. To the living, and those who still matter. “Tess is going to be okay,” I say. My words sound unconvincing. “We just have to find a way.”

The lab techs inside the glass room stick a long needle into Tess’s right arm, then her left. She lets out a choked sob. Day tears his eyes away from the scene, adjusts his grip on his crutches, and begins to make his way toward us. As he passes me, he whispers, “
Tonight.
” Then he leaves the rest of us behind and heads down the hall.

I watch him go in silence. Anden sighs, looks sadly toward Tess, and joins the other lab techs. “Are you sure Day is clean?” he says to the one who’d shared the virus information with us. She confirms it, and Anden nods at her in approval. “I want a second check run on all of our soldiers immediately.” He turns to one of the other Senators. “Then I want a message sent right away to the Colonies’ Chancellor, as well as their DesCon CEO. Let’s see whether diplomacy can get us anywhere.”

Finally, Anden gives me a long look. “I know I have no right to ask this of you,” he says. “But if you can find it in your heart to ask Day again about his brother, I would be grateful. We might still have a chance with Antarctica.”

1930 H
OURS.
R
UBY SECTOR.
73° F.

The high-rise I’m staying in is just a few blocks away from where Metias and I used to live. As the jeep I’m riding in approaches it, I look down the street and try to catch a glimpse of my old apartment complex. Even Ruby sector is now blocked off with segments of tape indicating which areas are for evacuees, and soldiers line the streets. I wonder where Anden’s staying in the midst of all this mess; probably somewhere in Batalla sector. He’ll definitely be up late tonight. Before I’d left for my assigned apartment, he had taken me aside in the lab hall. His eyes flickered unconsciously to my lips and then back up again. I knew he was dwelling on the brief moment we shared in Ross City, as well as the words that had come after it.
I know you care deeply for Day.

“June,” he said after an awkward pause. “We’re meeting with the Senate tomorrow morning to discuss what our next steps should be. I want to give you the heads-up that this will be a conference where each of the Princeps-Elects will deliver some words to the group. It’s a chance to experience what each of you would do if you were the official Princeps—but be warned, things may get heated.” He smiled a little. “This war has left us all on edge, to put it lightly.”

I’d wanted to tell him that I would sit this one out. Another meeting with the Senators—another four-hour-long session of listening to forty talking heads all battling to outdo one another, all attempting to either sway Anden to their side or embarrass him in front of the others. No doubt Mariana and Serge will lead the arguments to see which of them can come across as the better Princeps candidate. The mere idea of it drains me of all my remaining strength. But at the same time, the thought of leaving Anden to shoulder the burden alone in a room full of people who were so cold and distant was too hard to bear. So I smiled and bowed to him, like a good Princeps-Elect. “I’ll be there,” I replied.

Now the jeep pulls up to my assigned complex and stops, and I push the memory out of my mind. I get out of the jeep with Ollie, then watch it go until it turns a corner and disappears completely from sight. I head inside the high-rise.

I initially plan to stop by Day’s room right after settling into my own, to see what he meant by his “tonight” comment. But as I reach my hall, I see that I don’t have to.

Day is camped outside my door, sitting slouched against the wall and absently smoking a blue cigarette. His crutches are lying idly beside him. Even though he’s not moving, some small piece of his manner—wild, careless, defiant—still shines through, and for an instant I flash back to when I’d first met him on the streets, with his bright blue eyes and quicksilver movements and unruly blond hair. That nostalgic image is so sweet that I suddenly feel my eyes watering. I take a deep breath and will myself not to cry.

He pulls himself to his feet when he sees me at the end of the hall. “June,” he says as I approach. Ollie trots over to greet him, and he pats my dog once on the head. He still looks exhausted, but manages to give me a lopsided, if sad, grin. Without his crutches, he sways on his feet. His eyes are heavy with anguish, and I know it’s because of our earlier stint in the lab. “From the look on your face, I’m guessing the Antarcticans weren’t much help.”

I shake my head, then unlock my door and invite him inside. “Not really,” I reply as I close the door behind me. My eyes instinctively study the room, memorizing its layout. It resembles my old home a little too closely for comfort. “They’ve contacted the United Nations about the plague. They’re going to seal off all of our ports to traffic. No imports or exports—no aid, no supplies. We’re all under quarantine now. They’ve told us that they can help us out only after we show them proof of a cure, or if Anden hands over a chunk of Republic land to them as payment. Until then, they won’t send any troops. All I know now is that they’re monitoring our situation pretty closely.”

Day says nothing. Instead, he wanders away from me and stands on the room’s balcony. He leans against the railing. I put out some food and water for Ollie, then join him. The sun set a while ago, but with the glow from the city lights, we can see the low-lying clouds that block the stars, covering the sky in shades of gray and black. I notice how heavily Day has to lean on the railing to support himself, and I’m tempted to ask him how he’s feeling. But the expression on his face stops me. He probably doesn’t want to talk about it.

“So,” he says after another puff on his cigarette. The light from distant JumboTrons paints a glowing line of blue and purple around his face. His eyes skim across the buildings, and I know he’s instinctively analyzing how he would run each one of them. “Guess we’re on our own now. Can’t say I’m all that upset about it, though. The Republic’s always been about closing off her borders, yeah? Maybe she’ll fight better this way. Nothing motivates you like being alone and cornered on the streets.”

When he lifts his cigarette to his lips again, I see his hand trembling. The paper clip ring gleams on his finger. “Day,” I say gently. He just raises an eyebrow and glances at me sideways. “You’re shaking.”

He exhales a puff of blue smoke, squints at the city lights in the darkness, and then lowers his lashes. “It’s strange being back in LA,” he replies, his voice distracted and distant. “I’m fine. Just worried about Tess.” A long pause follows. I know the name—Eden—that hangs at the tips of both of our tongues, although neither one of us wants to bring it up first. Day finally ends our silence, and when he does, he approaches the topic with slow and laborious pain. “June, I’ve been thinking about what your Elector wants from me. About, you know . . . about my brother.” He sighs, then leans farther out on the railing and rakes a hand through his hair. His arm brushes past my own—even this small gesture sends my heart beating faster. “I had an argument with Eden about it all.”

“What did he say?” I ask. Somehow, I feel guilty when I think back on Anden’s request for me.
If you can find it in your heart to ask Day again about his brother, I would be grateful.

Day puts his cigarette out on the metal railing. His eyes meet mine. “He wants to help,” he murmurs. “After seeing Tess today, and after what you just told me, well . . .” He tightens his jaw. “I’ll talk to Anden tomorrow. Maybe there’s something in Eden’s blood that can, you know . . . make a difference in all this.
Maybe.
”

He’s still reluctant, of course, and I can hear the pain plainly in his voice. But he is also
agreeing.
Agreeing to let the Republic use his little brother to find a cure. A small, bittersweet smile tugs at the corners of my mouth.
Day, the champion of the people, the one who can’t bear to see those around him suffer on his behalf, who would gladly give his life for those he loves.
Except it’s not
his
life that we need in order to save Tess, but his brother’s. Risking one loved one for the sake of another loved one. I wonder whether anything else made him change his mind. “Thank you, Day,” I whisper. “I know how hard this is.”

He grimaces and shakes his head. “No, I’m just being selfish. But I can’t help it.” He looks down, laying bare his weaknesses. “Just . . . tell Anden to bring him back. Please bring him back.”

There’s something else bothering him, something that’s making his hands shake uncontrollably. I lean into him, then place one of my hands over his. He looks me in the eyes again. There’s such deep sadness and fear in his face. It breaks my heart. “What else is wrong, Day?” I whisper. “What else do you know?”

This time, he doesn’t look away. He swallows—and when he speaks, there’s a slight tremor in his voice. “The Colonies’ Chancellor called me while I was in the hospital.”

“The Chancellor?” I whisper, careful to keep my voice low. You never know. “Are you sure?”

Day nods once. Then he tells me everything—the conversation he had with the Chancellor, the bribes, the blackmail and threats. He tells me what the Colonies have in store for me, should Day refuse them. All my unspoken fears. Finally, he sighs. The release of all this information seems to lighten the burden on his shoulders, if only by a hair. “There must be a way we can use this against the Colonies,” he says. “Some way to trick them with their own game. I don’t know what yet, but if we can find some way to make the Chancellor think that I’m going to help him out, then maybe we can take them by surprise.”

If the Colonies really do win, they
will
come after me. We’ll be killed, all of us. I try to sound as calm as he does, but I don’t succeed. A tremor still manages to creep into my voice. “He’ll expect you to react emotionally to all this,” I reply. “It might be as good an opportunity as any to hit the Colonies with your own brand of propaganda. But whatever we do, we have to be careful about it. The Chancellor should know better than to trust you wholeheartedly.”

“Things won’t go well for you if they win,” Day whispers, his voice pained. “I never took them to be some goddy compassionate softies—but maybe you should find a way to flee the country. Sneak off to a neutral place and seek asylum.”

Flee the country, run away from this entire nightmare, and hole up in some faraway land? A small, tiny, dark voice in my head whispers agreement, that I will be safer that way . . . but I recoil from the thought. I draw myself up as well as I can. “No, Day,” I reply gently. “If I flee, what will everyone else do? What about those who can’t?”

“They will
kill
you.” He draws closer. His eyes beg me to listen. “Please.”

I shake my head. “I’m staying right here. The people don’t need their morale crushed any further. Besides, you might need me.” I give a little smile. “I think I know a few things about the Republic’s military that could come in handy, wouldn’t you say?”

Day shakes his head in frustration, but at the same time he knows I won’t budge. He knows, because he would do no differently in my position.

He takes my hand in his and pulls me toward him. His arms wrap around me. I’m so unused to his touch that this embrace sends an overwhelming wave of heat through my body. I close my eyes, collapse against his chest, and savor it. Has it really been so long since the last time we kissed? Have I really missed him this much? Have all the problems threatening to crush us both weakened us to the point where we are gasping for breath, clinging desperately to each other for survival? I’ve forgotten how right it feels to be in his arms. His collar shirt is rumpled and soft against my skin, and beneath it his chest is warm and pulses with the faint beating of his heart. He smells of earth, smoke, and wind.

“You drive me insane, June,” he murmurs against my hair. “You’re the scariest, most clever, bravest person I know, and sometimes I can’t catch my breath because I’m trying so hard to keep up. There will never be another like you. You realize that, don’t you?” I tilt my face up to see him. His eyes reflect the faint lights from the JumboTrons, a rainbow of evening colors. “Billions of people will come and go in this world,” he says softly, “but there will
never
be another like you.”

My heart twists until it threatens to break. I don’t know how to respond.

Then he releases me abruptly—the coolness of the night is a sudden shock against my skin. Even in the darkness, I can see the blush on his cheeks. His breathing sounds heavier than usual. “What is it?” I say.

“I’m sorry,” he replies, his voice strained. “I’m dying, June—I’m no good for you. And I do so well until I see you in person, and then everything changes again. I think I don’t care about you anymore, that things will be easier once you’re far away, and then all of a sudden I’m here again, and you’re . . .” He pauses to look at me. The anguish in his expression is a knife cutting through my heart. “
Why
do I do this to myself? I see you and feel such—” He has tears in his eyes now. The sight is more than I can bear. He takes two steps away from me and then turns back like a caged animal. “Do you even love me?” he suddenly asks. He grips both of my shoulders. “I’ve said it to you before, and I still mean it. But I’ve never heard it from
you.
I can’t tell. And then you give me this
ring
”—he pauses to hold his hand up—“and I don’t know what to think anymore.”

He draws closer, until I feel his lips against my ear. My entire body trembles. “Do you have
any idea
?” he says in a soft, broken, hoarse whisper. “Do you know how . . . how badly I
wish
 . . .”

He pulls away long enough to look me desperately in the eyes. “If you don’t love me, just say it—
you have to help me.
It’d probably be for the best. It’d make it easier to stay away from you, wouldn’t it? I can let go.” He says it like he’s trying to convince himself. “I
can
let go, if you don’t love me.”